


Opposites Attract

by Tiberias



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Adam is Saved, Asperger Syndrome, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Nigel must learn to be patient, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Nigel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-16 11:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7265920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiberias/pseuds/Tiberias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were from two different worlds. Two entirely different people. But upon their coming together, they created- they found- their own path and together they had their own world and in their own world, they were the same.  - C. JoyBell C.</p><p>Nigel rescues Adam, and in rescuing him he rescues and saves himself too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beated and English is not my mother language.

It happens on 23 January 2015, precisely at 6.31pm at the end of my shift. I'm always precise about the beginning and ending of my shifts, well, to be honest, my whole life revolves around being precise.

Well, let me introduce myself a bit. My name is Adam. Adam Raki. My mother named me Adam because from the very moment her doctor told her that she was pregnant with a boy, she knew that she would had loved me, only me, more than my father. So, after 11 hours of painful labour, Adam, that is me, was born. Adam, her first and only man to love and cherish for the rest of her life.

Sadly she left me very soon, before dying she promised me to come back, but death only gives you a one way ticket, never a return, so my father told me. And we buried her, 2 days after my 8th birthday.

I'm not normal, but I'm special. Well, father always repeated that to me, especially every time someone at school teased or bothered me. I have the Asperger's Syndrome. When I was little, I found the name quite amusing, it reminded me of Asparagus, and I love Asparagus! One day when I was fifteen I ate almost 40 Asparagus...then spent the night on the toilet with my father admonishing me.

On Wikipedia the Asperger, is described as a developmental disorder characterized by significant difficulties in social interaction and nonverbal communication, along with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior and interests. In other words I can't understand people, but to be honest I can't even understand myself, sometimes. Father told me that many famous persons had this condition, and yet they achieved so many wonderful things!

But I'm not famous, I'm not bright, and I spent most of my life hiding under the shade of my father, he was a very strong and generous man. Then, one year ago, 33 days before Christmas he went out for a walk and never came back. Well, he actually came back, but dead. So now Harlan, his only best friend, looks after me.

I can't really say that things are easy for me. Never were. I can't even say that father didn't prepare me to live alone, to support and stand by myself, but sometimes, in the middle of the night, above all when the sky is clouded and no star is in sight, I cry my heart out, because I do really feel like Adam, like he surely felt in being the only man on Earth ... but eventually God heard his cries and gave him an Eva, a companion, a lover. Me instead, at 41 days to my 30th birthday, I'm alone, an outcast who struggles to conduct a normal life, who wishes nothing more than to be accepted with all my flaws, who ... prays for God or whoever is listening now, to give me my Eva.

But because of my condition, I have a difficulty in communicating or relate with others and often, too often, I love to run to hide into my love of space exploration, besides, my fixation on detail, repetitive behaviors, and mind-blindness often got me into many troubles. 

I have an Astronomy, Astrophysics and Space Engineering degree, but I work as a Mechanical Engineer for a toy manufacturing company. Mr Greggs was really nice in hiring me when no one wanted to, and I didn't even needed to attend a job interview, but later I discovered that he only hired me, because of my father, Mr Greggs owned him some kind of big favour. 

Today my colleague Pete, is turning 40 and at the same time he's getting married. Next Sunday, he said. To be honest, he doesn't look very excited, but as I already said, because of my mind-blindness, I'm not good in catching others emotions and feelings. Pete invited all of us to his stag-party, but I hate to go out, I can't even stand in a coffee shop full of people without feeling overwhelmed. After work I rush back home, turn on my laptop, prepare my mac & cheese, I eat them as I watch some NASA's videos, then shower and bed at 10.15pm. I have my routines, yes they are strict, but they make me feel safe and calm. Safe and calm as I felt when father was at home with me, welcoming me back from a day's work.

Also my boss, Mr Greggs, is going. Everyone is going. Everyone but me. I feel stupid. Well, my father used to say that I'm not stupid, I'm very smart, I have an Engineering degree and I can resolve in a few minutes, most of the difficult Mathematical theorems. 

I don't want to be forever The Adam of the situation, the only one left out, the only one avoiding to live his life ... so, I said yes, I said to Pete, my co-worker, that yes, I'm going to his stag-party and he was really pleased, and told me that I will never forget this night. Never. Outside it's raining and thundering, when we leave the pub, and I'm amazed at myself because I managed to stay until late, after my bedtime hour! I feel so proud of myself, if only father could see me now. Pete and Jack, another co-worker of mine, offered to give me a lift to my apartment.

During the ride, I feel myself falling asleep - probably I shouldn't have drank that third Pineapple, Coconut, Champagne Cocktail - only to be abruptly awoken by Pete's laugh, his large sweaty hands are pulling me out from his car. 

"W-What?!" I stammer confused.

"Your ride ends here dumb boy!" They both laugh while getting back inside the car, "besides, it's time you find yourself a chick...or perhaps you prefer a cock to fuck and this area is a good point where to start!"

It's raining hard as I stare at them driving away, leaving me in the middle of a streets barely illuminated by light poles. I don't know this area at all. I'm cold and drenched in rain. How far away am I from home?

I start to walk, not really knowing where I'm going. On the other side of the street there are some boys dressed with very few clothes, and they are staring at me. Perhaps they can help me. I start to cross the street when a dark blue car stops in front of me.

"Hey darling how much for a blow job?"

I remain in silence. Cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. 

"Are you fucking mute?!" The man asks, waving in front of me a couple of $20 bills. "Come on, get in the car, and I'll render you mute for real!"

"P-please, le-leave me a-aa-alone Sir," I stammer shivering.

"Sir? Are you a fucking English lord? Come on bring that sweet ass closer and--"

"Hey!" Someone is yelling. A young man with long platinum blond hair is quickly walking toward us. "You fucker! Are you stealing my clients?!"

"I--"

"Yes you, I'm talking to you, you bitch! Go elsewhere to sell your ugly ass! Move--Move away!" He yells pushing me hard on the chest, "this is my client and my area, you ugly bitch, go away before I kick your ass!"

Other boys are crossing the street and walking toward me, all yelling to go away, that they don't want or need new faces, that this is their area, their clients, someone is grabbing me, pushing me, tearing my jacket. I start to cry and beg, then I fall on the floor, my arms are crossed over my head I'm trying to protect myself from their screams and slaps, and blows ... I want to yell that I don't even know where I am, and that that man wasn't my client...I don't know him! Please stop, please...but they keep in pushing me, kicking me...then they stop.

"We don't want new faces here!" Someone is yelling, but their voices and steps are getting distant.

"Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourselves if you keep in kicking him, he surely will not have a face anymore!" 

"Go fuck yourself!"

"No that's your job, not mine!" The man yells after one of them, his voice is low, deep and very manly... almost an authoritative voice.

"Stupid bitch!" He hisses helping me to get up from the floor. "Now-now I'm curious to know what a fucking gorgeous thing  
like you, is doing here in this fucking area at this ungodly fucking hour of the night."

I slap his hands away, I'm shaking and can't even properly breath, "easy kid, easy they will not put a finger on you ... let  
me call you a taxi ok?"

"N-no!" I cry out attempting to calm myself by hugging myself with my arms.

"No?" he asks sounding surprised.

"I--I want to go home," I whisper while rocking back and forth on my shaking my feet.

"Yes, ok...I don't think you live here, so you must catch a fucking taxi," the man points out while lighting up a cigarette,  
"finally this fucking rain stopped," he mutters taking a long drag from it. 

I dare to look at him then quickly looking down as his eyes catches mine. He is ... handsome, the most handsome man I have  
ever see...and scary. He looks dangerous, dangerous as this street, as this night, as these yelling boys, as the man in the  
car who wanted to know how much I was charging him for a blow job, he looks like ... anything but me. He looks like someone my father would advise me to avoid at any cost.

I swallow, and shiver. I want to go home, my body aches everywhere. I want to go to hide inside my little bedroom and wash away all this filth.

"I want to go home," I repeat fidgeting with my fingers.

"Where do you live?" He asks taking a long drag at his cigarette making the glow bright red.

I remain in silence and he sighs and pulls out from his leather jacket a pair of car keys, "come on let's go kid."

"I don't know you." I simply say.

"No, it's true, you don't know me and I don't know you, but trust me when I say that it would be better for your pretty face to follow me and leave this area as fast as you can, because you are an easy fucking target for people like m--" he starts to walk in the direction of an old Mustang with matte black stripes. 

I follow him but I can't stop shaking and silently cry, I don't know why Pete and Jack left me here, I don't know why they thought that I was living here, I gave to them other directions...if I was normal people wouldn't take advantage of me. If I was not dumb, I wouldn't be here now.

"Stop picking at your cuts on your hands," he admonishes me while driving, his hand lightly brushing my fingers away from my palm, and I flinch away.

"P-please d-don't tt-touch me." I plea.

"There, keep your hands occupied with a non-destructive activity," he takes away from his neck a long military dog tag chain, passing it to me, and in my hands the metal of the tags is warm, very warm.

"Nigel Ibanescu," I read, tracing the engraved letters with my fingertip.

He stops the car in front of my building, "yes, my name is Nigel."

"A-are you in the Army?"

"Who me? No, no ... I'm anything but a soldier!" he softly laughs, shaking his head, "my father was in the Army, he had these made for me."

"Oh...my father too!" I exclaim, feeling my heart racing and then aching at the thought of my father and how much I miss him.

"What's your name?" Nigel asks pulling the keys out from the engine.

"A-Adam," I whisper before deciding to empty my stomach on his black leather seats. 

"Christ!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am at home, I am safe, I am ... safe ... he is here. Nigel. He is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my mother language. I don't have a beta, so story isn't betaed! :)

Years ago I had a friend named David. David was like me, an Aspie. Well, to be honest his condition was worse than mine. He lived trapped in his own world, in his own mind. He used to repeat over and over, things he heard on the radio or on TV, a stream of words, interspersed with long silences. Some days, David used to scream and hit his head with his hands, honestly that scared me a lot, because I can't stand violence or loud noises. I have noise sensitivity, so I can't stand chewing noises, loud music, gum snapping, whistling, hand clapping ... I can't stand it and my chest tightens and it's hard to breathe because I get so tense. I wish I could not feel this way. I wish I was normal.

Eventually he got moved to another class, a special class, as they called it. His parents weren't happy about it, but at that time, the school director said that it was much better for him to stay with similar people. My father fought many battles, to prevent him from moving me in that class too. But as the director used to say to my father, I was lucky, because I was smart and didn't disturb the class. Lucky ... I think that he was the first and the last person, to label me as lucky. I was lucky for not being dumb, for not being like David. This still hurts me very deeply. 

I used to go to David's house, to play a bit with him, after all, he was my only friend ... and I was his only friend. Sometimes, I envied him, I envied his blissful ignorance of whatever was going on around him, and what others thought about him and his mental condition. In his entire life, he never realized that he was an outcast, different, wrong, dumb, limited, handicapped. 

One day he didn't came to school. You see, for you this doesn't raise any suspicion, but David never ever, missed one day of school; so after school father took me to his house, to see him. His mother opened the door, her eyes were puffy, she was crying. She said that David wasn't feeling very well, and didn't want to see anyone. We tried 4 more times during the 2 following weeks, until one day his mother told us to not come back again, because David didn't want to see anyone. They retired him from school, and moved to another state. Two years later he committed suicide, but before hanging himself, he made sure to write down a letter with the names of his persecutors, two boys who spent a whole afternoon beating and raping him. He was dumb but too cute, to not have a go and some fun! He just couldn't stand anymore to have them living forever into his (not anymore) pure and untouched inner world.

I was lucky. Last night I was set to become like David, to live his same terror, but this doesn't console me, doesn't prevent me from shivering and crying while feeling like my rib cage is about to explode. It's 7am and today is Saturday 3 October, 28 days to Halloween, I don't like Halloween but I like candy apples and spiced pumpkin cookies. I am at home, I am safe, I am ... safe ... he is here. Nigel. He is here.

This is the first time I let a stranger walk inside my house, only Harlan is allowed to visit me, to enter inside my house. Father taught me to not trust strangers. I can't read their emotions, their feelings, I have to ask, make questions, and hope they will answer me with the truth. It's like I'm living in a world that doesn't speak my language, so I have to rely on a translator, hoping that he or she will translate his or her emotions and feelings in the right way ... to me is like ... like you don't know for example, the meaning of the French word bonjour, so you ask its meaning, and this translator tells you that it means house, and not good morning; but because you cannot tell if what he's saying is the truth ... you have only to trust him, and pray that he's really telling you the truth. This is my world. This is my life.

That's why I don't like people, and I don't trust them. Because they lure you toward them, they promise you that they will treat you as their equal, but, because you are dumb, because your have this mind-blindness, they can easily play you, they can easily use you, and abuse you. Father warned me many times: Adam, don't end up like poor David, don't trust people, and above all, keep your business to yourself!

"Kid are you all right now?" He's not american, his thick accent is European, probably from East Europe. His voice sounds croaky, he speaks low, in a rough voice. I like it. I like that he talks with an husky low voice ... it's very calming.

"I'm not a kid, I'm 29 and my name is Adam."

"Err.. ok, look Ki-Adam I gotta go."

"No!"

"No what?" 

"W-what if they come back?"

"Who?"

"Those guys." My heart is hammering inside my rib cage.

"They will not come here, surely they will have already forgot your face!" He says putting on his black leather jacket, keys and coins, jingling in his pockets. 

"I...I will pay if-if you stay with me...only to-today, p-please." I plea. I don't know him, he's a stranger, he doesn't even looks like very raccomandable, someone who Harlan or my father would let inside their houses. He looks threatening and dangerous, and wild, and anything I ever saw in my entire life if not on television. Dad loved to watch crime movies, and usually the bad guy looked just like him.

"I'm sorry but I really gotta go Adam." He replies, reaching inside his jacket pocket and pulling out his car keys.

"Ok."

The door closes softly behind his broad back, and suddenly the apartment feels empty. He smelled of cigarette smoke, of alcohol, and of something ... delicious and masculine and ... somehow friendly. 

This is so wrong. I am wrong.

I go to close myself inside my bedroom, I want to sleep, to forget ... to hush my mind, and calm my heart.

What if they find me?

What if they come back?

What if the man who wanted me to give him a blowjob, returns?

I don't want his money!

I don't even know how to perform such intimate act ... I only saw it performed in porn ... Sometimes I watch them because having an orgasm calms me, it de-stress me. I can't trust people.

I wanted him to stay with me ... I only wanted his presence, I only wanted his calming scent to pervade every atom of this house, of these walls.

I fall asleep. Later, as he sits on my couch, in the living room, he watches silently outside the window, the window he climbed and opened with only a knife after he went out to look for my friends. I only said their names ... 

He smiles as he sinks comfortably on the couch and quickly falls asleep.


End file.
